


Hello Russia

by aypreal



Series: OTAYURI YOUTUBER AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Crack, Crushes, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Otabek is Yuri's ultimate crush, VictUuri, Victor with a K, Viktor is extra, Youtuber AU, Yuuri is the mama, i think, otayuri - Freeform, otayuri youtuber au, yuri's foul mouth btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aypreal/pseuds/aypreal
Summary: When Yuri Plisetsky received his weekly email notification from YouTube informing him that Otabek uploaded his newest video, he never would have guessed what was in it for him nor for his entire army of butterflies that already took permanent residence in his stomach.Holy fucking shit, he thought. “FUCK!” The butterflies suddenly turned into bees, fast and buzzing.Hello Russia — the video said. “Shit, shit!” He muttered before clicking the video to play.





	Hello Russia

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This should be the sequel to [Q&A because you're all nosy af](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11164176). A lot of you guys have been requesting for it and I know I was hesitant in creating one but there were ideas dancing in my mind and before I knew it, I promised that I would be making one. It took me some time to really write it because life happens. LOL. I suddenly got a mountain-worth of work, and that happened in the middle of my move, so, yeah. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy.

When Yuri Plisetsky received his weekly email notification from YouTube informing him that Otabek uploaded his newest video, he never would have guessed what was in it for him nor for his entire army of butterflies that already took permanent residence in his stomach.

 _Holy fucking shit_ , he thought. “FUCK!” The butterflies suddenly turned into bees, fast and buzzing.

“Yurio,” a voice called from the living room. “Are you watching those gross zit-popping videos again? If the answer is a yes and a no, just mind the curse-volume please.” Of course, Viktor would choose that time to scold him for his cursing. He only ever does that whenever his dearest husband was on the phone with the in-laws. 

 _Pretentious ass_ , Yuri thought before calming the raging beats of his heart to a more normal rate that would probably save them a trip from the hospital. “What the actual fuck, Beka?” Yuri tried rubbing his eyes (thankful that he just scrubbed his face clean after trying that new foundation he got from Mila) just to double check if he really did read everything right.

 **Hello Russia**  — the video said. “Shit, shit!” He muttered before clicking the video to play.

“ _I told you guys before that I received requests for gigs recently and guess what? I'm visiting Russia!”_  Otabek opened and Yuri still can’t believe it. After the fiasco that was his Q&A, Otabek and Yuri kept a steady line of communication. 

They exchanged DMs at first before branching out to text messages (Yuri will take it to his grave that Otabek’s name on his phone had at least 2 heart emojis on it). Otabek tried to get him to Facetime or Skype but so far, Yuri refused them all. It’s not that Yuri doesn’t want to do the video chat but it was more on protecting his pride. He just can’t guarantee not to fanboy if he gets to talk to Otabek Altin face-to-face (well, in a sense). After all, he already embarrassed himself multiple times in front of his new  _friend_. 

He didn’t mean to confess all of his crush-feels in front of the whole world nor did he mean initiating the DMs with embarrassing statements. Otabek just had that kind of impact on him and he can’t help it. Or maybe his sorry ass was just star struck.   

Yuri watched Otabek explain about regular stuff. How his Russian fans kept on demanding that he visit and maybe that he finally decided to indulge them.  _“I might have an ulterior motive by going there but if things go as I am hoping they would, then there will be a surprise treat for everyone! I’m just really hoping that my ass won’t be thrown out into the cold so I’m crossing my fingers that everything will be okay.”_

With that, Yuri grabbed his phone and began rambling.

 

 

 

 

 

> 10:01AM
> 
> **Dude, wtf?**
> 
> 10:01AM
> 
> **Just saw your vid**
> 
> 10:01AM
> 
> **You’re going here?**
> 
> 10:01AM
> 
> **Why didn’t you tell me??**

Technically, there might be a teeny-weeny quiet part in Yuri that wishes that he was that ulterior motive, that Otabek might find their friendship a reason enough to book a ticket. But why would Otabek do that? He travels all the time. Besides, with how awesome Otabek was, he could probably get any ass he wants without having to travel cross-country, maybe an ass way better than those of a bitter, creepy prima ballerina.

Before he could sink further into the sea of friend zone and hopelessness, his phone  _ding’d_. 

 

 

 

 

 

> 10:03AM
> 
> **Yeah,**
> 
> 10:03AM
> 
> **Technically, it was supposed to be a surprise**
> 
> 10:03AM
> 
> **So, surprise?**
> 
> 10:03AM
> 
> **LOL**
> 
> 10:03AM   
>  **Maybe it’s not that funny**
> 
> 10:03AM
> 
> **Sorry**

Yuri just rolled his eyes at the succeeding texts. Because not only was Otabek perfect, he had to be god-like perfect with never ending consideration of Yuri’s thoughts and feelings. He wasn’t treating Yuri like fragile china doll but he sees him as an equal which in Yuri’s case, pretty rare. Usually, he's either treated as the prima ballerina he is or the punk who gets on everyone's nerves. 

 

 

 

 

 

> 10:03AM
> 
> **Shut up, asshole**
> 
> 10:03AM
> 
> **A heads up is better than none**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **Better prepared than sorry or whatever the old fucks say these days**

Yuri was sure that it was a legit saying somewhere, but coming from both Viktor and Katsuki, it sounded tainted and over-sexualised. Maybe he shouldn’t have quoted them.

 

 

 

 

>   
>  10:04AM
> 
> **Cool!**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **You still in for that cover, right?**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **Can I set up equipment at your place for the video shoot and editing?**

_Oh my god._ “OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Yuri yelled as he read the texts. 

 

 

 

 

 

> 10:04AM
> 
> **… Or not**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **We can always do it in my hotel room**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **If you’re in, of course**
> 
> 10:04AM
> 
> **No pressure**
> 
>  

“HOLY SHIT!” 

“Yurio!” Viktor popped in the crack of his door where it was partially open. “What’s wrong? I understand that we’re trying to respect each other’s kink here but seriously, zit-popping?” Yuri glared at him — although it didn’t come out as heated as he could have wanted. His mouth was too busy gaping for any serious threats. “Or maybe it’s not zit-popping… Maybe it’s your new BDSM calling, aka  _Beka-Daddy-Spank-Me_?”

“That was one time you old shit!” Yuri yelled with a matching burning face, “And it was a ridiculous fan fiction made by my impossible fans!”

“Well that’s what you get for strolling along the darker side of the internet, Yurio.” Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov entered. “We told you not to open the links they tag you on.” 

“I can’t help it.” He mumbled before taking a glimpse on his phone only to see his friend (and crush) sending him the deets about his flight. "Um, actually — I have something to ask the two of you.”

The couple looked at each other first before giving their attention to their pseudo son. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day that Otabek Altin was due to arrive was a few days ahead of the marketed fan meet. He should be staying in Russia for a whole week. Most days would be spent creating the cover they were planning on and doing the post production of the video. Yuri had his fingers crossed that they can squeeze in enough time to stroll around, (you know, build the romance and shit).

It was a good day. Yuri thought that Viktor and Katsuki will say no to the idea of Otabek staying with them. For one, Otabek was a boy (whom Yuri liked to think as either gay or bisexual or hell, he’d take him as pansexual or whatever). Two, he’s a boy that Yuri has been crushing on for years. Three, Viktor is an over-protective ass who developed a habit for cock-blocking (Yuri would return the cock-blocking favour if it wasn’t for the fact that the very thought of them fucking brought him to shivers and an upset stomach). 

Anyhow, the couple agreed to house Otabek in exchange of a  _‘no-sex-while-you’re-under-our-roof’_  promise. Yuri groaned with burning cheeks at that. Viktor even had him sign a written agreement to be double sure.

He cleaned the flat gleaming clean the day before and changed the sheets of the extra mattress on his bedroom floor. Viktor was not really happy to have the Kazakh sleep on Yuri’s bedroom but his husband (bless him) fought that it was rude to have a friend of their ‘son’ sleep in the living room where he was prone to have dog drool or an entire cat sitting on his face come morning. Yuuri then fed him his katsudon recipe while Viktor gave him a special moisturizer that he received from one of the brands he was endorsing. 

Checking his phone, it read as 8:45 am, a dozen notifications and a text message from Otabek reminding him about his flight landing. His mind didn't register the text though, after all, he had it memorized for weeks. "Great.” Three hours before Otabek is due to arrive. 

“Shit.” Yuri bolted. “VIKTOR!” He stood up and ran to his closet, muttering a quick apology to his cat when he accidentally pushed her out of the bed with his haste. “VIKTOR, FUCKING GET IN HERE!”

He threw open his closet and immediately scanned his array of clothing. It ranged from leotards to shirts, jackets and bombers, to a growing collection of feline-printed tights. Most of the outfits his closet hosted already garnered a respectable amount of likes in social media but for some reason, for his first meeting with  _the_  Otabek Altin aka the potential love of his life, none of his clothes are good enough.

“VIK—”

“I’m here, I’m here…” Viktor entered unamused. He was still in his pyjama bottoms and bare chest. Clearly woken by Yuri’s impossible screaming—if his bird nest of a hair would say otherwise. “This better be worth it Yuri, I left my very comfy husband in bed for this…”

 _Uh-oh_ , Yuri thought. He called me _Yuri_. Viktor rarely does that anymore. He only ever does when he’s feeling affectionate, serious or borderline angry with Yuri. 

“I don’t know what to wear.”  _Better be honest._  Viktor treats fashion seriously, especially for occasions like ‘reunions’. “How do you fix an outfit that would scream ‘I’m-chill-AF’ and whisper ‘Please-like-me’ anyway?”

He took out a black shirt with a printed tiger’s head on it. It was one of his favourites but still not good enough to meet his potential boyfriend (cross thy fingers), so he threw it back. Next was a nice black hoodie.  _Weird_ , Yuri can’t remember having a plain black hoodie. Deciding that he can pair it with one of his bomber jackets, he began inspecting the hoodie for any damage that may compromise his future love interest.

Only when he turned it back did the memories of the hoodie came back. Yuri blushed all over. Oh yes, he definitely remembered being drunk off his ass and impulsively buying that black hoodie with  _ **Team Altin**_  printed in bold on the back. 

 _Any further evidence should be hidden_ , Yuri panicked as he piled clothes upon clothes on top of the said hoodie.   
  
“Viktor, fucking help me!” He demanded. “At least let me borrow something!” 

The silver headed genius somehow crossed the room and sat down beside Yuri without him noticing. (Technically, with his panic mode on, he won’t be noticing much anyway.) Viktor didn’t reply, just stared at his face like the very apocalypse was happening across his moisturized cheeks.

“What the fuck are you staring at, old man?” Yuri glared.

“Yura,” Viktor whispered, lips frowning, “You didn’t overuse the moisturizer last night, did you?”

“No…”  _Wait_ , “I might have… I think? I can’t sleep well last night. Moisturizing every inch of my body always relaxes me so… I could have done it three times last night, I wasn’t sure.” He answered, creeped out by how Viktor was leaning in. 

The older Russian raised a hand and gently placed his index finger so close to Yuri’s face that his eyes crossed for a bit. 

Then, “Owww!”

There was a sudden pain on the spot Viktor touched, somewhere in the space between his brows… “What the fuck was that for?!”

“I told you not to overuse it Yura! Gosh.” Viktor groaned. “Anything too much is bad!”

“Says the most extra person in this house who thought that having a mob dance is the best way to welcome his husband back from a trip in Japan.”

“Yura! I told you not to overuse it! I told you it can cause side effects!”

“What?”

“The boyfriend of your dreams is about to arrive and there’s a cherry-red zit in the middle of your face!”

Yuri didn’t scream. 

In fact, he didn’t say anything.

He just grabbed his phone and switched it to the front camera.

Viktor was not joking. 

There was a huge pimple on his face. He can’t believe it. It's right there! Right in the middle of his brows. “This is impossible.” He said. He was supposed to be one of those blessed ones who didn’t get acne at all. Puberty only punished him with body pains, untameable balance, and a libido that was still wrapped in a tomb somewhere in his subconscious. “Viktor…” He turned to the other, eyes stinging a little with how hopeless this all was. Will Otabek fly back to Kazakhstan because his pimple was so repulsive? Gods like him won’t tolerate imperfections like that right? “Viktor…”

“Ssssh…” Viktor braced his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, “We’ll fix this. I know a dermatologist who can fix this ASAP.”

“Where?”

“In LA.”

“LA. Okay.”

“Okay, I’m calling the pilot to have the jet prepared…” Viktor said with eyes wild and hands patting his body for any signs of his phone. 

“Do you seriously expect me to be okay with this?!” Yuri yelled and he moved away from Viktor’s grip. “LA? LA is hours away! Otabek is arriving in approximately the exact time of Yuri Plisetsky’s untimely death! This is all your fault! If you didn’t give me that moisturizer, this wouldn’t be happening at all!” Then like a queen to her magic mirror, Yuri raised his phone again to moan about the existing pimple.

“Technically, I told you not to overuse it.”

“Yeah but you didn’t tell me about the possible side effects!”

“I told you!”

  
“Did you specify? Fucking asshole.”

“Maybe it’s grease from the pizza last night?”

“Maybe it’s your new cock-blocking technique.”

“I don’t need to cock-block when you signed a ‘no-fucking’ agreement.”

“Listen here, you old, balding twat—”

“Guys!” Both Viktor and Yuri looked at the newcomer. Yuuri was leaning by the door frame, looking unamused. “A pimple won’t end the world. It's a normal body reaction so, Yuri, stop overreacting. Viktor, stop adding fuel to your cousin's fire and go get dressed. We promised to drive Yuri to the airport to pick up Otabek.”

“But Yuuri!” Both voiced, but with a raised brow, both shut their mouths. Viktor left the room to get dressed while Yuri picked at his clothes. The better half of the Katsuki-Nikiforov couple always had that effect with the Russians. He was usually the calm in the cluster fuck he married into but when his feathers are brushed the wrong way, both Viktor and Yuri admitted (sober at that) that Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov was the scariest man alive. 

“Yurio.” Yuuri called before he sat down beside the grumpy blonde. “It’s just a pimple.”

“You don’t understand.” Yuri faced him. 

“You’re right.” Yuuri sighed after eyeing the blond's forehead. “It’s a shining, very-red pimple.”

“I’m supposed to be a blogger who specializes in make up and facial care! This is just humiliating! What if Otabek thinks it’s gross?”

“I haven’t met Otabek yet, but I don’t think he’s the type to judge something normal as a zit.” Yuri whined but silently agreed that Otabek wasn’t that shallow as a person. Yes, he was god-like in his perfection but he won’t turn his back on Yuri just because the apocalypse was starting on his face. “It’s going to be fine, Yura.” Right?

“If I end up single all my life, I’m shaving Viktor’s head.”

“It’s going to be a long marriage with him whining about a bald head but I’ll still love him regardless and you have my permission to do so.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yuri thought he was fine. Katsudon did try his magic in dispelling the crumbling insecurity about his pimple and managed to drag him to the airport.

He dressed simply despite the temptation of all the feline striped leggings he initially planned on wearing and Viktor’s offer of covering him in Gucci and Armani. “Yuri, you look like a serial killer.” Said person commented before sipping his overpriced latte. 

They were sitting down at the small cafe situated in a corner of the airport nursing their own cup of coffee.

“Shut up, it’s all your fault.” Yuri had a beanie wrapped so low that it covered his brows (and the abomination that was his zit). He grabbed the beanie off its hook last minute. "If you warned me properly about the effects of that damned moisturizer, things would go smoothly.”

Viktor narrowed his eyes at his cousin/pseudo son, “Pray tell, what exactly were you planning?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Um, I don’t know? Maybe entertaining Otabek properly like a human being instead of looking like a psychotic serial killer with a beanie and a forehead that won’t be seeing sunlight for a week or so.”

“Stop over-reacting.”

“I’m not. This is my normal reaction to sabotage.” Yuri replied, “Believe me, I’m repressing all of my instinct to throttle you right now.”

“Guys, please.” Yuuri intervened after noticing the growing attention to their table. “Try not to show your overflowing familial love in public. People might cry with all that sweet affection you’re showering each other.”

“I wished someone was filming this.” Viktor answered, not minding what his husband just said. “I’m positive it’s going to reach  _100M_  in no time.”

Yuri smirked. Viktor was so bitter. The young blogger won the bet. His video reached more than the assigned quota. A shining  _67M_  likes and shares. It was impossible not to get to that number when Otabek Altin and even Phichit Chulanont (aka, Social Media king) helped out. “Oh, I don’t know. Are you sure your fans are still amused enough with that balding head to even reach a million views?” _Hello Coachella._

“Balding?!” Immediately, like a scripted scene, Viktor grabbed his phone, turn it to front cam, and examined his hairline. “Did you hear what he accused me of, Yuuri? Balding?”

Yuuri tired of everything that has been exchanged between the cousins, sighed. “I’ll still love you, Vitya. I swore that in both of our wedding ceremonies.” Yuri snickered. “Yura, don’t you want to air out your head for a bit? The wool of your beanie is just going to irritate your skin.” With that, Yuri placed both hands on his beanie as Yuuri attempted to remove it for him.

“No! Beka’s flight is due to arrive any moment now!” Actually not.

Yuuri threw him an unamused glance and said, “Don’t be ridiculous. His flight is due to arrive an hour from now. You should know, you had it memorized for weeks.” He attempted to get the awful beanie from his cousin-in-law again only to get his hand smacked away. “Don’t be stupid, Yurio. You’ll end up popping it prematurely and we both know that it will leave a scar, then you’ll have to live your whole life with a zit scar for a third eye and single.”

Traumatised by that realisation, Yuri begrudgingly took off the beanie. He had to admit that the cool air of the place helped in settling down his almost hot face. Yuri is Russian, and although he appreciates the warmth and protection of the hoodie outside, the airport was getting too warm under his clothes. And with the extra wool on his head, he was borderline hot.

“Yuri?”

The blonde did not hesitate in turning to face the person who called his name, mind too pleased out by the sudden coolness on his temple to stop the same instinct that forces you to acknowledge anyone who calls out your name in public. 

Only, he shouldn’t have.

“Hey.” Behind the trio's table was Otabek Altin. 

 _Oh, fuck me side ways_. Yuri took him in. He was wearing a simple white shirt underneath a black leather jacket, dark grey jogger pants and boots. Otabek's signature look. He had a backpack and a pitch black luggage.  He looked so simple and yet so devastatingly handsome.

Yuri was still staring that he didn’t notice that the married couple and his potential boyfriend were observing him. “Yuri?” Otabek asked again and  _gosh, chocolate on a stick his voice was._

“Hi!” Yuri heard a voice beside him, “Hi, I’m Yuuri, Yurio’s cousin-in-law.” The Japanese man introduced himself in Russian before extending his hand for a handshake (though not before elbowing his cousin-in-law to move). “Otabek Altin, yes?” Otabek only nodded after exchanging the handshake. “This is my husband, Viktor.” Yuuri added, “But I guess you already know that seeing that your friends with our Yurio… Who is still a little brain-dead… I think.”

Viktor coughed and Otabek raised his brows. 

Gosh he can’t say anything. “Yuri…” Otabek pointed something on his face, “Is that…”

And with that, all the blood came rushing. Suddenly his soul was pulled back into his body. His hands immediately covered his forehead before running away; finally giving into his instinct. 

Everything happened so fast that Viktor, Yuuri and Otabek didn’t have the chance to stop him.

“Um… Why?” Otabek voiced out, confused that Yuri was acting weird ever since he greeted him. He looked surprised to see Otabek even though he’d known that he was visiting and that his flight had an earlier turn. He should know. Otabek did text him that morning that his flight was rescheduled. 

“He is so dramatic.” Viktor exclaimed. 

“He’s your cousin. He might have the dramatic genes inherited.” Yuuri immediately began pushing his husband to go after Yuri, “Go after him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

  
“Like what?”

“Get a plastic surgery. And that would trigger him to shave your head in your sleep, so go!” With that, Viktor took off like the reaper was after his ass. 

Making sure that Viktor took the right turns Yuri did, the Japanese man began turning to face the music that was Otabek Altin. “I am so sorry about that.”

“Is Yuri okay?” Otabek asked, “If my staying at your place makes it uncomfortable for him… I can always look for a hotel, I won’t mind.”

“Nonsense.” Yuuri smiled. “Yurio was just… Overwhelmed. He’s been a fan of yours since forever and I guess you being here did a number on his nerves. Or he’s being a drama queen. Like his cousin. It’s in the blood, you see. They can’t exactly help it.” He gave out an award laugh at that.

Otabek only nodded. It’s going to be a long week.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this was upto par with the first story! Anyways, feel free to visit, send, or just talk to me in [tumblr](http://queenhumanoid.tumblr.com/). Love lots, everyone!


End file.
